Let's Play Dodgeball
by Inix Cruz
Summary: Santana always finds an opportunity to rub everyone in the wrong way and Quinn's not an exception. Crack!fic. Lion!Quinn. Faberry. Finn bashing.


Author's Note: So, Lion Quinn's back. This is within the _Leonine_ and_ Felid_ universe—but not really a continuation of the two—so it doesn't follow the actual dates of _Glee_. This is based on the "Mash Off" Dodgeball promo and the other pictures lying around on Tumblr. It's pretty short compared to the two but I hope you all will still enjoy it.

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><p>Let's Play Dodgeball<p>

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><p>"Alright! Red Team on my right! Black Team on my left!"<p>

With a whistle, all players scattered to find their places and the balls on both sides of the court.

"Britt, your other left," Santana said before a small smile played on her lips.

"Oh, right." Brittany turned around and skipped towards Santana's side. The Troubletones were just standing by, just waiting for the second whistle to blow but Finn Hudson had other plans for New Directions.

"Alright guys, here's my plan on beating the Troubletones—" Finn said with a dopey grin, intending on having a pep talk like he always did. And of course, everyone—even Santana—had to cut him off like they always did.

He just failed at it. For all they knew, Blaine was ten times better at it.

"Oh just shut up, Finnocence," Santana said. "We're just going to throw balls, not going for the fucking Olympic gold."

Kurt straightened his headband. "I just need to get out of this alive,"

Artie nodded as he put on his goggles. "I just need to _not_ get out of my wheelchair."

He gaped at them when all of them had just somehow agreed at Santana's statement and didn't even defend him. Finn muttered a few expletives before giving up and just took his position on their side.

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God," Rachel chanted, looking like she would break down at any given moment. She looked at the red balls like they were the most horrid things ever created on earth.

"You'll be fine, Rach," Quinn said, her hand running up and down against Rachel's back.

"Hobbit's not going to last two seconds in this game."

"If you call her by that name again, S, I swear I'm going to kill you." Quinn turned to Rachel, her features softening. "Look, don't listen to her, I got you, alright?"

Santana was amused. Well, at least she knew how to defend her girlfriend.

Rachel nodded and smiled at Quinn's words. "I just really loathe balls."

Santana snorted at that and winked at her from across the gym floor, tossing the ball up and down with one hand. "Of course you do, Berry." Quinn glared at her.

"Santana, do you really have to make inappropriate jokes?" Mercedes put her hands on her hips. "I mean, I'm cool with you now but really?"

"I'm not complaining," Puck said and grimaced when he looked at Blaine, Rory, and Kurt. "But I'm definitely complaining about _that_."

"The school apparently ran out of basketball shorts," Mike said but also made a face.

Kurt shrugged. "I find it rather slimming, actually."

"I don't have anything else to wear." Blaine looked down at the short shorts. He stretched them sideways as if to prove a point, making the guys—except Kurt—even more disgusted at what they were seeing. "But I feel like I'm going to give people a free peep show or something."

Rory nodded with a slight frown, clamping his legs close together.

"Please tell me you three wore underwear," Tina said.

Brittany was also having another conversation with Santana on the other side. "San, do I really have to hit them? They're our friends and I don't want to hurt them."

"It doesn't really hurt, Britt. Look, I'll show you alright?" Santana, with a devilish smirk on her lips, stared straight at her target.

With a throw, she hit Rachel right in the face.

"Jesus," Puck whispered, witnessing the whole thing. His hands rushed to cover his groin. "You throw like a man."

Rachel squatted right then and there and moaned out in pain. She grabbed her nose on impulse, wondering if it was broken for the second time now.

"You did _not_ just do that," Quinn said in a feral growl, and most of them who were familiar with the distinctive sound ceased their own little conversations.

Lion Quinn was back.

"Oh no, not again," Tina said, voicing out almost all of her team's thoughts.

"This _cannot _be happening," Kurt said, his eyes widening by the second as Quinn grabbed the ball that hit Rachel with both hands, her muscles twitching at how much force she was exerting at that action alone.

"Oh hell _no_, Santana." Mercedes glared at her. "Why the _hell_ did you do that for? Now we're done for."

"What? I'm just showing Brittany how it's done. Berry's just overreacting." Santana shrugged, trying to come off as innocent as she could be. Santana wanted to laugh at the thought but instead continued with a, "It's a game, Mercedes, and she's fucking wide open."

"I don't mean that," Mercedes said. "I mean about Quinn."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

No one could blame her though, since her back was turned to Quinn.

"San, Mercedes was talking about how you made Lion Quinn angry," Brittany said after she had tapped her girlfriend on the shoulder. Brittany pointed at Quinn's direction and Santana followed, her whole body facing Quinn head-on.

"What's happening?" Rory asked in his heavy Irish accent, scratching his head as he watched Quinn lift the ball over her head. Even the others were in the dark. "Who's this Lion Quinn?"

At that moment, every single member in his team pitied him.

They didn't have to respond to Rory's question though, because when Quinn threw the ball with a roar that had the other Troubletones trembling and hit Santana's face with a disturbing sound, Rory looked like he found his answer.

The ball bounced five times on the dirty gym floor before it rolled over to Brittany's feet. Everyone was silent as Quinn stared down Santana.

"Oh ho ho." Santana's twisted laugh erupted after a moment of disbelief. She bent down and grabbed another ball, too proud to take the comment of it not hurting back. "Shit's about to go down now."

"San, the game hasn't started yet." Brittany put a hand over Santana's forearm, pouting at her. "And you already showed it to me. The teacher's already mad, so don't do it, okay?"

Santana scoffed at the teacher squinting at her but obeyed nonetheless. Quinn shot Santana a challenging smirk and jogged towards Rachel's side. She kneeled right in front of her and cupped the brunette's cheek.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asked after she had pecked her on the nose. Rachel blushed at the look Quinn was giving her right now. It was the most adorable, concerned face she had ever seen.

Puck, the self-proclaimed badass, even had to look away, resisted going, "Aww!" at the sight.

"I'm quite alright," Rachel said after she threw her a small smile. "My nose is still in its proper place. Thank you, Quinn."

And with another whistle, everybody settled down and was back to their positions, the balls now lined up along the mid-court line.

Santana pointed at Quinn. "I'm gonna cut. A. Bitch_._"

And the game began.

After thirty seconds into the game, Santana's throws grew stronger and faster when Quinn wasn't hit yet.

"Shit! Stay the fuck still, will you?" Santana threw her fourth ball at Quinn, who dodged it for the fourth time.

"No."

Quinn did a rather dorky dance—a cross between doing jazz hands and a sideway shuffle—as she mocked Santana. After the seventh attempt, Santana hit her square on the left cheek. She pumped her fist in the air.

"Finally! Now I'll go after your precious Berry," Santana said, curling her right index finger and wiggled it with a smirk.

"No! Jewfasa is mine!" Quinn yelled, with Mike escorting her out of the court when she wouldn't get out of the way. She tried to fight against his strong hold, not wanting to leave Rachel out there alone. "And Lion Quinn will get her revenge!"

Meanwhile, Rachel was multitasking between crawling on the floor, covering herself, and at the same time shouting the blonde's name.

Another thirty seconds in, with Quinn back in the game, Rachel wasn't riding onto the fact that Lion Quinn was back again anymore. Instead, she was riding more onto Quinn's back, who carried her with relative ease.

"Quinn, there's a ball coming my way! Protect me!" Rachel, the ever damsel in distress, secured both of her legs around Quinn's waist. She tugged hard at Quinn's now stretched and crumpled sleeve while her other arm went around Quinn's head in a vice grip, covering her right eye in the process.

"Lion Quinn will protect Jewfasa no matter what." Quinn, even under her girlfriend's pressure, caught the said ball and executed another overhead throw with another ear shattering roar towards Santana's direction.

Her effort was fruitless though, when Brittany came flipping from out of nowhere and was right behind Santana, catching her bridal style when Santana had jumped to get out of harm's way.

"And Puppy Britt will protect Puppy San no matter what," Brittany said as she dodged another ball coming from Artie, still having Santana in her arms. The latter transitioned from going all Lima Heights to lovesick mode in record time.

Puck leered at the two couples, who were now on top of each other, with a lopsided grin. Then, all of a sudden, a ball flew right at the back of his head.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, Puck!" Mercedes yelled at him as she shielded herself from an oncoming ball.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You were going to!"

Puck scowled at her but didn't say anything. He rubbed the area where he was hit and went his way out of the sidelines.

Fifteen seconds in, Kurt just had to make a comment.

"Santana, your gay is showing," Kurt said in a singsong voice as he shuffled around, making a girly toss at one of the Troubletones.

Santana blinked a few times and glared at him before Brittany put her down feet first when she squirmed in her arms. She fired a ball at his way along with a, "Shut it, Hummel!"

He managed to give Blaine a grateful look after the latter had saved him as another batch of balls came raining down on them, trying to avoid them as much as they could.

Another ten seconds, Artie also had to make a comment.

"I can't believe Finn's not hit yet!" Artie shouted as he rolled down, punching another ball away. "I mean, he's _right there_ singing."

"Not anymore," Puck said after a beat as he ducked down, also back in the game. "Look."

Over all the madness of balls flying and bodies tumbling and rolling, there were Tina, Quinn, Rachel—who was now standing but still hiding behind the blonde's back—and Finn in their own little circle of lunacy.

"Quinn! Finn's on the same team!" Tina said as she slapped another ball out of the way with her own ball.

"No." Quinn continued to bombard him with the remaining balls they had on their side.

Finn was laying down in a fetal position on the ground, his body hurting everywhere. He had just been stopped mid-song.

"Quinn, stop it. Finn didn't do anything to me," Rachel said, still holding onto Quinn's T-shirt for dear life with closed fists and still very aware of the balls coming on their way.

"No."

"Santana, help! I promise I won't tell anyone I swear! Just please help me," Finn said underneath all the round projectiles piling up on him.

"Everyone knows already," Mike said under his breath, who was somewhere in the back ground. "He's really not up-to-date."

"…Okay," Santana said with a shrug and directed her attention to Quinn, half-heartedly demanding a, "Q, stop."

"No."

"Oh well, I tried," Santana said with a frown, before smirking and joining in on Quinn's attack. And with that, Quinn and Santana's friendship was mended again.

"Stop! Oh my God, just stop!"

"No."

"Why do you all keep hurting me!"

The game ended with Finn still lying on the floor and still ignored, Tina and Mike being all couple-like, Santana and Brittany being all couple-like, Rachel and Quinn being all couple-like, Kurt and Blaine being all couple-like, and the others being nauseated from how they were all couple-like.

The others—especially the ones seeing this for the first time—were more focused on Quinn nuzzling and purring into Rachel's neck, though.

Rachel ran one of her hands through the Quinn's untamed hair, the pigtails undone. "Quinn, why did you hit Finn? He was on our team."

"I hate him," Quinn said after she had looked up. "I love you."

Rachel paused at Quinn's—well, Lion Quinn's—logic and nodded. It was hard to fight Quinn when she was like this.

Rachel shook her head and suppressed a smile as she said, "I love you, too, Quinn."

"So, did we win?" Mercedes asked, looking away from all the corniness.

The gym teacher started ranting. "Hudson was singing a mash-up of Hit Me with Your Best Shot and One Way or Another during the game while crossing the centerline, Pierce and the other Troubletones were dancing along with the beat, all of you were harmonizing in the background and if not that, were talking, some of you were touched by the ball and didn't get out of the court, and Fabray went all savage and hit one of their own players. And after all my unheard yelling I did during all that, do you _really _want me to answer that question?"

"…I'm guessing your answer is a 'no', then."


End file.
